Spring Shuffles Along

A few hundred yards to the north of our acreage runs a strip of Highway 20, the longest road in the United States. Lucinda Williams has an album titled “The Ghosts of Highway 20”, using the highway as metaphor for memory. Traffic moves along on 20 unabated, day and night, despite the pandemic. If the wind is from the north we can hear it, but if it is from the south we can only see it. The robins are mating, hunting worms and singing down the sun at dusk. A pheasant will squawk now and then in the distance. A few weeks ago Shelly was driving around dawn and spied two glowing eyes off to the side of the road. When she slowed down to get a better look it was a fox. All of our white willow trees have leafed out while the other trees still have buds. The farmers have begun discing the surrounding fields, and our road has been busy with pickup trucks and tractors coming and going. We had a high of 81 degrees one day last week and a few days ago it was half that and now we are expecting snow, freezing rain and high winds on Easter Sunday. Old Man Winter is trying to come back but he will loose, more and more.